


The Show Must Go On

by metisket



Series: in the circus [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gen, circus brats have more fun, circus outtakes, kanda has a stunted sense of humor, lavi makes an excellent woman of mystery, lenalee is scary and awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metisket/pseuds/metisket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outtakes from <i>Moving Forward</i>. Allen tries to train exorcists to be circus performers. They do not make it as easy for him as they might have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Show Must Go On

**Author's Note:**

> First posted July 2008.
> 
> Now with:  
> [Art](http://cozyfire.deviantart.com/art/Circus-Kanda-91828365) by [cozyfire](http://cozyfire.deviantart.com/)

It was one thing to blithely inform everyone that they should join the circus. It was another thing entirely to find a circus that would hire four complete unknowns on short notice in the middle of Wales.

Allen had expected a certain degree of trouble, there. As such, he was surprised when they found Jack’s troupe so quickly, and closer to horrified when Jack and Anne hired them with very few questions asked. With _so_ few questions asked that Allen was almost tempted to argue. “Look at us!” he would have said. “We’re _really suspicious_. Okay, maybe Lenalee and I make some kind of sense, but what about Lavi and Timcampy? And let’s not even get _started_ on Kanda…”

Hadn’t they ever had bad experiences in hiring? Or was it that they’d made so many bad hires that they were now entirely composed of bad hires? Because, if so, Allen was a little worried that someone might try to knife them in their sleep. After everything they’d gone through, it seemed like an awfully stupid way to die.

So Allen watched very closely for a few days. At the end of them, he had to conclude that they weren’t suspicious because they’d really _never had_ a bad experience. They’d never accidentally hired a violent drunk or a serial killer or even a thief. _No one_ has that kind of luck.

“It’s because Anne can see straight through to a man’s soul!” Mike the contortionist explained with fanatical devotion. “Remember the way she looked at you when you first came? That terrible, piercing gaze? That’s the one. _In_ to your soul. Not a one of us has any secrets from Anne!”

_Oh, really_.

It was true, however, that Mike the contortionist was not alone in his insane love for Anne. That seemed to be the general trend. Earning devotion was a useful skill for someone managing a troupe that had a lot of people and very few animals. (Actually, the only animal was Maud the ancient python, who was only there to keep Bess the tattooed lady company). Allen respected the skill, but if Anne could make so many people of so many different backgrounds love her, then maybe she _could_ see straight into a man’s soul. In view of that possibility, he decided to try to keep the exorcists away from her.

But Allen was happy to be part of a safe troupe, no matter how it came to be safe. He had more important things to worry about than Anne’s all-seeing eye, anyway.

Kanda, Lavi, and Lenalee were flexible, strong, quick, and athletic. Allen had really believed that would be enough to see them through the circus. He’d failed to take into account the fact that, while they had all been trained to be fast and deadly, none of them had been trained to be entertaining.

He was going to have to teach them himself. He did not foresee this going smoothly.

* * *

“Keep your eye on the ball, Allen.”

He was seven years old, and Mana was teaching him to juggle.

“That’s right, good. There’s a rhythm, isn’t there?”

“Yeah. Touch-touch-up. Touch-touch-up.”

They were between circus troupes. They were often between troupes, and Mana laughed and said it was because he was a wandering soul. He said he was sorry Allen had to put up with him, but Allen really didn’t care how often they moved, so long as Mana didn’t leave him behind.

“That’s perfect, Allen. You always learn so quickly, don’t you?”

“I can only do it with one, though.”

“Ah, but once you have the rhythm down, we can get you up to higher numbers in no time. Here’s two.”

“Ack!”

“…Okay. So we’ll work up to higher numbers _slowly_.”

Mana never had left him behind, no matter how many moves they made. Allen was gradually coming to believe that maybe…maybe he never would. After all, Mana was kind of crazy like that.

* * *

“You mean you really don’t know how to juggle? At _all_?”

“Where the hell would I have learned to juggle, beansprout?”

“My name is Allen. And I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”

“What? No. You said I was throwing knives. That’s what that fat guy said, that’s what you said, and I’m not learning to _juggle_.”

“You can’t expect to get away with just one routine, Kanda. This isn’t a huge troupe, so you need to be useful in a few different ways. And Jack’s not that fat.”

“He’s exactly that fat, and why _juggling_? Is there no less stupid thing I could be learning? Something that might actually be useful outside of a circus?”

“Jack is _not_ that fat, and this _will_ be useful. You’ll like it for the hand-eye coordination practice. If you’re good enough, we’ll even have you juggling knives.”

“Juggling knives? That’s useful?”

“Well, no, but it’ll be really cool.”

“Jesus Christ, beansprout.”

“ _Allen_. Here, we’ll start with one. Yes, like that. Do you feel the rhythm to it?”

“What rhythm? What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what rhythm? The one you’re using right now! The…the touch-touch-up, touch-touch-up.”

“…Whatever, Walker.”

“Maybe I’ll just pelt the balls at your head. That’d be less stressful for me.”

“You think so? Try it.”

“Anyway, here’s two.”

“This is fucking impossible.”

“You are _such a quitter_.”

* * *

“Okay, Little Walker. So I’m gonna throw you up in the air, get you turning the right way, everything. All you have to do is stay tight, and then twist and pike when I say. _Not until I say_. You got that?”

“Got it.”

He was eight years old, and the tumblers in their new troupe were teaching him to tumble.

“Here we go. You ready?”

“Ready.”

“One – Two – Three!”

Geoff threw him really, really high. Allen felt giddy, the way you do when you’ve just left everything up to gravity and momentum. He felt like laughing out loud.

“TWIST!”

Only now did it strike him that he actually had no idea how to go about twisting. He tried to come up with a way, but the only thing he could think of was curling into a really small ball and praying. So he did that.

Given the way he ended up falling like a rock and crashing into Geoff, it might not have been the best plan.

“I said _twist_ , Little Walker. Not _have a panic attack in midair_.”

“Did I hurt your head, Geoff?”

“Luckily, you weigh about as much as a wet blanket, so no, you didn’t. But it was still dumb.”

“Sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by doing it right this time, Little Walker.”

“Tomorrow, Geoffrey,” Mana broke in, laughing and stepping over to claim Allen. “Why don’t you give me tonight to explain the theory to him, and we can try again tomorrow? My father-heart can’t take any more tumbling today.”

“I’ll get it right, Mana.”

“I know you will, Allen. The question is how many bones you’re going to break in the process.”

* * *

“Here, Lenalee. I thought you could practice here.”

“‘Here’ is a creepy barn, Allen.”

“Well, yes. But I think it’s an abandoned creepy barn, so you won’t have to worry about anyone watching you.”

“I see.”

“And as far as the performance goes, we’ll be okay if you activate your boots offstage, right? They won’t glow or anything, will they?”

“Not if they’re already activated.”

“Good. Then all we have to do is work on toning you down a little. Then Karen can come up with a routine for you, and you’ll be set.”

“You don’t think Karen should have helped us today?”

“Oh, no, not on the first day. If a choreographer saw what you could really do, she’d want to use it, and we’d have to _explain_ , and even so she would be irritated…it’s better to avoid the whole thing.”

“If she saw what I can really do? Wait a second, Allen, what _is_ your training plan?”

“Well, we have to make you look impressive without making you look superhuman, so I thought we’d try some tumbling to make sure you’re not using the boots too much. If you start doing things that are physically impossible, that’ll bother the audience.”

“Because they’re afraid of superhumans?”

“Because they’ll think the show is some kind of setup. Not real.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s start with something easy. Just do…oh, a standing back.”

“A what?”

“A backflip. You can use the boots to push off the ground, but then let gravity do the rest, okay? Or you’ll look like you’re cheating.”

“I _am_ cheating. You know, Allen, I’m pretty sure I could do this without the boots.”

“Of course you could, but that would take actual time and training, and I’m spending all my spare time on Kanda.”

“I can’t believe you’re making him juggle.”

“Neither can he. Anyway, for you, this way is much faster, and it doesn’t matter that you’re cheating as long as no one knows about it.”

“Allen, you know, sometimes…”

“Sometimes?”

“No, never mind.”

“…Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

“…”

“What just happened there, Lenalee?”

“Ah. I was falling, so I…”

“So you kicked. I see. Falling was actually the point.”

“I know. I just, I have a bad relationship with gravity. Sorry, Allen.”

“No, it’s fine. You have to learn somehow, it’s just…that wall is never going to be the same.”

“It is an awfully big hole. Um, should we leave? In case this barn isn’t actually abandoned?”

“Yes. Yes, it would probably be best if we ran away.”

“Timcampy is chewing on your hair.”

“It’s his way of letting me know that he’s laughing at me.”

“I’m really sorry, Allen. I know I can do this.”

“…just a question of how many buildings you destroy in the process…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

* * *

“Allen…what _is_ that on your hand?”

“…That _is_ my hand.”

He was nine years old, and he had just been, as Mana would put it, found out. Found out by Michael, the owner, which seemed especially unfortunate.

“Dear God. You mean to say that you have a hideously disfigured hand, and all this time you’ve been _hiding_ it from me!?”

Allen cringed a little. He didn’t _think_ that Michael would hit him, but, well, it wouldn’t have been the first time someone had. It was a relief when Mana appeared and stepped between them.

“We’re not obligated to tell you everything, Michael,” Mana said in that cold, hard voice he never used on Allen. “You know better than that.”

“Sorry, Mana,” Allen said quietly, hiding behind him and holding on to his coat. “I was washing my hands. I didn’t think.”

“It’s not your fault, Allen,” Mana said. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Michael sputtered, and Allen peered around Mana to see why.

“Of course _he_ hasn’t done anything wrong!” Michael exclaimed, waving his arms. “He’s too young to know better! But you, Mana, you! You’re a man of business! I expect better from you!”

“I’m not quite sure what you…” Mana said, starting to sound less angry and more confused, but Michael cut him off.

“Not quite sure what—! Come here for a second, Allen.”

Allen held Mana’s coat tighter, but he _really_ looked at Michael. Michael didn’t look angry. He looked…frustrated, maybe, but not angry. Allen thought it would probably be safe enough to see what he wanted, so he let the coat go and walked over, ignoring Mana’s aborted grab for him.

Michael knelt down and rolled Allen’s sleeve back almost reverently. “This arm,” he said quietly, “is the weirdest thing I have ever seen.” He looked up at Mana and grinned. “This arm is going to make us _so much money_.”

Mana stared at Michael for a moment, then he tipped his head back and laughed.

* * *

“So this is kind of a weird question, Lavi, but I was talking to Jack about what kind of act we could have for you, and…well. Is the eye under your patch really disgusting?”

“…What?”

“If it’s really disgusting, you can probably be an act just standing there.”

“Like a one-man freak show?”

“Of course, it would have to be _really_ disgusting, or else it wouldn’t be marketable.”

“Of course, yeah, sure. Sorry to disappoint you, Allen, but it’s not that bad.”

“No, that’s okay!”

“I’m so glad.”

“You can tell fortunes instead. I think you’ll be perfect, but Jack wasn’t completely sure he wanted a fortune teller. I’ll talk him into it, though.”

“…Can I have a crystal ball?”

“I was thinking tarot cards, but whatever makes you happy.”

“Aren’t fortune tellers usually tiny old women? Or at least hot young women? Women?”

“Usually, but it doesn’t matter as long as you’re observant, and you’re probably the most observant person alive. All a fortune teller does is figure out what people want to hear, and then tell them that. It’s pretty much how you live your whole life, so it won’t even feel like work to you.”

“If you sounded even a little bit like you disapproved? That would make me feel better.”

“Why?”

“…Yeah.”

* * *

“You can blink, Allen. I’m not going to die the instant you stop watching me.”

“How do you know?”

He was ten years old, though everyone said he looked younger and sounded older. He was ten years old, and Mana was very sick.

“Well…I guess I don’t _know_ , but it seems very unlikely. I’ve never heard of the force of someone’s gaze prolonging life.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Mana.”

Mana chuckled softly and went back to reading, while Allen settled back into watching him read. Maybe an hour passed that way, with no sound but Mana turning pages. Allen sat very still as he watched; watched Mana reading and the sunlight moving slowly across the cracked gray paint on the wall behind the bed.

“When I die,” Mana began softly, still looking at the book.

“You’re not going to die,” Allen interrupted. “I’m watching you.”

Mana huffed and looked up. “I _am_ going to die someday, Allen, even if it isn’t right now. If you can’t accept that, we’re going to have no end of trouble.”

“Well, someday is someday.”

“Yes, someday _is_ someday, which is why I’m going to tell you what will happen when it comes. Can you sit still for that?”

Allen leaned back, crossed his arms, and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I’m going to find out who taught you that eyebrow trick,” Mana said, “and I am going to _hurt_ them.”

“I thought you wanted to talk about depressing things.”

“Yes, I love depressing things. Well, I just wanted you to know that…that when I die, someone will come to look after you.”

Allen frowned, confused. “I thought you didn’t have any relatives, Mana.”

Mana shook his head sharply. “I don’t. It won’t be a relative. I don’t know who it’ll be, exactly…well, I have my suspicions. The point is, once I’m dead, it might take them a little while to find you, but they _will_ , Allen. You’ll only have to wait. You won’t be left alone.”

“If you’re gone, it won’t matter if I’m alone or not.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Nothing.”

“Allen, please try not to be stupid.”

“I’m never stupid.”

“In some ways, you are _almost always_ stupid.”

“Must have gotten it from you.”

“Allen,” Mana said, leaning forward and letting all the humor drop from his voice. “Don’t you dare stop because I’m dead. I _need_ you to keep going.”

“Keep moving forward,” Allen recited softly.

“Keep moving forward,” Mana repeated. “Promise me, Allen. Promise me you’ll keep moving forward no matter what. _Promise me_.”

“I promise,” he whispered, dropping his eyes to Mana’s knees, but still determined not to look away.

“Good….” Mana sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Well, I’ve told you, anyway. At least you know.”

“You’re going to feel silly about this when you get better.”

“I won’t. I’m glad to have that talk behind me in any case.”

“So what do you want to talk about now?” Allen asked, eager to pretend the previous conversation had never happened. “Or do you want to read more? Are you hungry?”

“Maybe I’ll drag this sick thing out,” Mana said thoughtfully. “I never get this kind of attention when I’m well.”

“ _Mana_.”

“Although it does keep me still long enough for the creditors to catch up, which is unfortunate. Say, the bill collecting boy hasn’t come by today,” Mana mentioned, struck by the thought. “Has he given up? Surely not. Bill collectors never give up.”

“Oh, he came while you were sleeping. And then he left again.”

“He just…left?” Mana asked incredulously. “Allen, what did you do to that boy?”

“I only talked to him, Mana!” said Allen, the picture of wounded innocence. “I just told him that you were sick, and that I was sure you would pay him as soon as you were better. That’s all!”

“Was it the smile or the tears?”

“…The smile.”

“It’s not sporting to use that smile on unsuspecting people, Allen.”

“But it does work.”

“Of course it works; that’s not the point. I’m saying it’s cheating for someone as criminally adorable as you are to use that smile on the uninitiated.”

“I’m not that adorable, Mana.”

“Don’t pull that with me, Allen Walker. I know you know _exactly_ how cute you are.”

Allen ducked his head and grinned.

“Criminal,” Mana sighed, shaking his head.

* * *

It was the night of the first show the troupe had performed since the exorcists had joined them. Allen had forgotten what a first night was like.

“Where the hell is Ross!?” Jack shouted, running frantically between the trailers, bowling through the people in his path. “He is onstage in FIVE MINUTES!”

“He’s in the blue trailer with the twins,” Becka told him as she rushed past, taking the time to roll her eyes in scorn.

“AGAIN?” Jack bellowed, running over to bang on the side of the trailer and shriek threats and obscenities.

Allen loved the circus. Allen had always loved the circus.

“Sweetie, what are you doing standing around out here?” Elise asked. “Your face isn’t even done! Oh, it’s just as well; I wanted to do it anyway. We are going to have _so much fun_ with that scar. I swear, you might have gotten it just to make a better clown. I mean, the star! It’s perfect!”

It might have been because the circus loved Allen.

After Elise painted his face and he got into the rest of his costume, he wandered around doing his job, which was essentially clowning and keeping the crowd happy while they were waiting in line at the various attractions. He made sure he had time to check on the others, though. It wasn’t that he was worried, he told himself. He just wanted to see how all that practice had turned out. And in that spirit, and not out of any sort of worry, he decided to check on Kanda first.

After more false starts than Allen liked to think back on, Kanda had finally gotten the hang of juggling. Once he’d gotten the hang of it, though, he’d become ridiculously proficient in an obscenely short amount of time. They really _had_ moved up to knives, which Allen hadn’t honestly believed possible. He was really proud of Kanda, and yet really annoyed on behalf of every normal person who had to take a normal amount of time to learn to juggle.

In any case, Kanda’s show was scary and excellent. He juggled six knives, then threw them one by one into a board around Jack’s youngest daughter, Rose. He did that three times, and each time the knives came a little closer to Rose, until the last round, when they were a breath away from drawing blood and it terrified even Allen.

Rose had volunteered to be Kanda’s target, and Kanda had no idea why. Allen thought that was really, really funny.

The act might have been improved if Kanda had the slightest sense of showmanship, but it was impressive as it stood. Maybe it was the scary look on his face, or the way he came so dangerously close with the knives, but he was a definite crowd pleaser. And that was almost as funny as the whole thing with Rose.

Kanda threw the last knife, then turned to glare at the audience like he wanted to ask what the hell they thought they were clapping at. Allen grinned happily, and wandered off to check on Lavi before Lenalee’s act started.

Or rather, he _tried_ to check on Lavi. In the end, he couldn’t actually get close enough to the tent to check because of the crowds. The crowds sounded impressed and disturbed in equal measure, though, so it was obviously going well.

“It felt like he could see straight into my soul, sister,” Allen heard one middle aged woman insist to another. “ _Straight_ into my soul! Knew all my secrets, he did! Knew every question I wanted to ask before I asked it! Had all the answers, he did, _all_ the answers!”

Allen wondered if Lavi had been consulting with Anne.

He’d seen the tent earlier in the day when Lavi was still setting it up. Lavi had decided to go with the tarot cards instead of the crystal ball, in the end. He’d also acquired a very mystical beaked mask from somewhere, presumably to hide the fact that he still couldn’t tell a fortune without laughing. When Allen visited him, he’d been hanging black drapes in the tent, and then covering them with symbols from…just about everywhere, from the look of it.

“What are you aiming for, here, Lavi?” Allen had asked.

“I am appealing to the occult,” Lavi had informed him, carefully painting an ankh next to a Celtic cross, just above a line of what might have been Aramaic.

“The occult _what_?” Allen asked.

“Oh, anything. Everything. It doesn’t actually matter. I’m starting on Asia next.”

To judge from the length of the line, it really didn’t matter.

That left Lenalee, and so long as Lenalee didn’t maim anyone or destroy the tent, Allen had every confidence that her show would be a complete success.

And it _was_ a complete success. Allen firmly told himself that he wasn’t at all surprised.

Lenalee was part of an act that was one part dancing, three parts death-defying tumbling. Karen the choreographer had wisely chosen to make Lenalee the center of the routine, because Lenalee, even after all the toning-down practice, jumped higher and moved faster than anyone else. The routine was amazing, but it wasn’t unbelievable. It was perfect.

They’d all done really well, Allen thought happily, and for the first time since Jack and Anne had chosen to take on a handful of exorcists with no references or qualifications, he didn’t feel like a complete waste of resources. It was even more of a relief than he’d thought it would be.

They had two more nights in the town, so the breakdown was fairly minimal. Afterward, those who could afford it went off to continue testing the quality of pubs around Europe, and those who couldn’t afford it (by far the larger number) stood around to talk about the show, or started wandering off to bed.

The exorcists were accosted on their way to bed by Bess the tattooed lady, who might not have been able to pay for the pub, but had clearly been able to pay for _something_. Bess, it turned out, wanted to confess tearfully to Allen that, no matter what everyone else said about the four of them being murderous psychopaths, she had always known better. Allen would have been more pleased to hear this if Bess hadn’t told it to him drunk and with Maud the python draped around her.

“It was that beautiful smile of yours,” Bess wept. “As soon as I saw that beautiful, beautiful smile, I just _knew_ I could trust you with anything. I really did.”

Allen knew better than to hope that Kanda was learning something from this.

While Bess was talking at Allen, some of the other dancers had come up to talk with Lenalee, and Lavi, having gotten his fill of laughing at Bess, wandered over to see if Lenalee’s conversation was also worth laughing at.

Allen noticed Kanda beating an ignominious retreat before someone started talking to him. Allen wondered how someone who fearlessly faced down killing machines could possibly find a little small talk beyond him. But there it was.

Bess eventually wandered away, and Allen was on his way to join Lavi and Lenalee when he was stopped by Jack. He was starting to despair of ever making it back to the room.

“Not too bad, Walker,” Jack commented. “Thought you were out of your mind, saying those three could handle it. Turns out you had their number down right. Anne and I were real impressed with you kids.”

“They did a good job, didn’t they?” Allen agreed, beaming. “I knew they’d learn fast, but…I wasn’t sure it would go this well the first time.”

“It went real well,” Jack allowed.

There was a brief lull in the conversation, during which Lavi could be heard saying, “Then apparently the elephant drifted down the river and washed up on the bank at the next town downstream, and rotted there. Elephants are huge, right? It rotted for a really long time, and obviously the circus wasn’t going to come back and claim it—they were long gone by then.”

“Lavi, how disgusting is this story?” Lenalee demanded as the dancers made “ew” noises.

“That was the disgusting part,” he assured her. “ _This_ is the funny part, because the town started plotting revenge.”

“If you kids wanted to stay on for a bit,” Jack continued gruffly, watching Lavi and Lenalee make the dancers laugh, “Anne and I, well. We wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Allen said, surprised. “We really appreciate that.”

“Really appreciate it, but no, yeah?” Jack asked, glancing over at Allen, then away again. “Figured as much. You kids, you aren’t the kind that stays.”

“I guess we’re not,” Allen admitted, watching Lenalee and Lavi as well. Watching Lenalee’s wary eyes and the way she seemed centuries older than the girls she was talking with, though they were all around the same age. Watching Lavi’s quick reactions and the smile that was never exactly sincere, especially now. He thought of Kanda, thought of the way Kanda let hostility hide everything else. For anyone who knew how to look, they were so clearly exorcists that a cross would be extraneous. Allen knew that was just as true of him.

“We’re the kind that keeps moving,” he said.

* * *

_Run away! Run, Father!_

_I love you, Allen. Please destroy me_.

* * *

“It’s an _akuma_ ,” Allen said, and his world settled back into place.

He loved the circus and he always would, but it wasn’t his reason for living.


End file.
